Editorial Note

In the winter of 1766–67, Jonathan Sewall, writing as Philanthrop, took it upon himself
to defend Governor Francis Bernard against an unremitting series of attacks being
made upon him in Boston newspapers, chiefly in the Gazette, by a number of pseudonymous writers. It is possible that Sewall wrote in hope of
preferment, for soon after he had finished his series of letters, Governor Bernard
offered him a newly created position, that of Special Attorney General. Yet there
seems no reason to doubt the sincerity of Sewall's concern that attacks on the Governor
would threaten the stability of the political state (Berkin, Jonathan Sewall, p. 43–44; Sibley-Shipton, Harvard Graduates, 12:311).

Bernard had incurred the hatred of the whig faction for his official support of the
Stamp Act, despite his private position, and, later, in May { 175 } 1766, for his refusal to approve James Otis Jr. as the choice of the House of Representatives
for speaker and his veto of six men, whig supporters all, chosen as councilors by
the joint ballot of the House and outgoing Council (Berkin, Jonathan Sewall, p. 36–37). In retaliation, whig writers vilified the Governor in print. He was accused
of customs racketeering, with some basis in fact, of greediness, of violation of the
privileges of the House, and of undermining the colonists' rights as Englishmen.

Sewall began his defense with a long letter in the Boston Evening-Post for 1 December 1766. Almost every Monday thereafter until early February, Post readers were treated to a vigorous, sometimes slashing attack on Bernard's detractors
and a careful presentation, too often written in a superior tone, concerning the Governor's
conduct on particular occasions so far as it was known to the author. Sewall did not
want for material. His entry into the field raised a regular hornet's nest of critics,
signing themselves “A,” “AA,” “B,” “BB”; as Sewall put it, “almost the whole alphabet [was] conjured up.” And Sewall tried to answer them all. But by spring nearly everyone
had said all there was to say. Philanthrop's letter of 9 February did not have a sequel
until 2 March; and then there was silence. Joseph Hawley, defending the Lanesborough
Stamp Act rioters, whose attorney he was, rekindled the fires in the summer of 1767,
with Philanthrop answering him in three long letters (Boston Evening-Post, 6 and 13 July; 27 July; 3 and 10 Aug. 1767).

John Adams, of course, could not keep from replying to his old friend, just as he
had answered him some three and one-half years before (3 March – 5 Sept. 1763, above). But Adams had trouble settling upon the literary style of his response.
He began in straightforward fashion, addressing himself to “J Phylanthrop,” his addition
of “J” suggesting the continuity he saw between Sewall's “J” letters of 1763 and those
appearing over Sewall's new pseudonym (No. I, below). His first effort, unpublished and unsigned, was largely an attack on the
character of Sewall, whom he called the “old Trumpeter” of “that restless grasping
turbulent Crew of Villains” seeking the destruction of the people. Adams accused Philanthrop
of ingratitude and of “venemos Bilingsgate.” It is almost as though Adams were working
off steam, just as he did with the unfinished and unpublished letter to Sewall in
1763 (No. II, 3 March – 5 Sept. 1763, above). Next, in his diary, Adams wrote a thoughtful analysis
of what should be understood by “the better Sort of People,” whom Sewall claimed as
supporters of Bernard (Diary and Autobiography, 1:326–329).

But when he appeared in print, Adams adopted once again the pseudonym he had used
before in replying to Sewall, that of Humphrey Ploughjogger. Although he retained
a kind of farmerish and common sense approach, most of the dialect and phonetic spelling
was dropped. He had perhaps tired of these devices; the cause was too serious for
playfulness. Attention was centered upon Philanthrop's contempt for the ordinary run
of men and his fallacious belief that sharp criticism of high officials would undermine
the due subordination of persons necessary for any kind of { 176 } government. Adams wound up his series of three Ploughjogger letters, of which the
first was unpublished, with a kind of rustic condescension toward the craziness of
Philanthrop, who reminded Adams of his “little black Ram” (Nos. II–IV, below).

Further Sewall pieces that reproved his critics in what seemed a sweet reasonableness
of tone that could be dangerously persuasive led Adams to lift out sentences and phrases
from their context so that their sheer depth of spite stood revealed. If Sewall posed
as a lover of men, then Adams had perforce to sign himself “Misanthrop.” The new pseudonym
set Adams off on a long fantastical narrative in which he sought to expose Philanthrop
as greedy for office but made craven by the gnawing of self-doubt. None of the “Misanthrop”
performances saw print (Nos. VI and VII, below); they were probably intended for his own amusement.

Finally, and more seriously, Adams assumed the role most natural to him, that of historian.
Writing as a figure of history called to life, and thus able to comment with unique
perspective on significant developments since his own day, Adams demonstrated the
continuity of love of freedom from the time of Governor Winthrop to his own. A common
thread in the series of letters from Governor Winthrop to Governor Bradford is the
elemental soundness of the people despite the insidious efforts of Philanthrop to
lead them astray by appealing to the weaknesses of human nature. The Winthrop letters
discern parallels between the tyrannical precepts of the first two Stuarts and those
of Philanthrop and warn Bostonians that liberty “has always been surrounded with dangers.”
Only men who remain on guard remain free. In the end Adams analyzes at great length
the role of Governor Bernard in refusing to administer the oath to two men elected
to the House from Newbury and sees a most serious breach of the privileges of that
body (Nos. VII–XI, below).

With the exception of his discussion of Bernard's interference in the affairs of the
House, Adams confined himself to attacking the more theoretical of Philanthrop's arguments,
leaving to others, as he said, the critique of the Governor's conduct. And even here,
it was the principle at stake that caught Adams' attention. Philanthrop's defense
of Bernard was based upon a concept of government that Adams saw as wholly wrongheaded
and subversive of liberty.